Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Epilogue
Dear Readers,
Connect With Alexis
About the Author
Phoenix Locations & Cool Things
References
A Handful of Fire
Shai
Shai
Shai
Shai
Shai
TROPICAL TRYST
ALL NEW AND EXCLUSIVE SEXY READS
Tropical Tryst © 2017 by Romance Collections
All rights reserved.
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SEAL MY LOVE
SHARON HAMILTON
Navy SEAL Trace Bennett has just transferred from his east coast team to join Kyle’s SEAL Team 3. Newly divorced, he’s hoping the change in locale will bring back his mojo for life. He needs his brothers more than ever before, but he struggles with physical effects of being a SEAL for nearly ten years. They call him the “old man” and invite him to a Team vacation in Hawaii with several others and their wives.
* * *
Gretchen Sanders, sister of Team Guy Tyler Gray’s wife Kate, is invited to the islands on her first vacation alone without her three girls. Formerly married to a professional basketball player who outed his affair with a dancer on national television, she has focused on her girls and never been tempted to date again—until she looks into the blue eyes of this older SEAL.
* * *
Will their Tropical Tryst bring more than thunder and lightning? Or is it something real that they can build on?
* * *
Prequel novella to full-length novel coming 2018.
AUTHOR’S NOTE
I always dedicate my SEAL Brotherhood books to the brave men and women who defend our shores and keep us safe. Without their sacrifice, and that of their families—because a warrior’s fight always includes his or her family—I wouldn’t have the freedom and opportunity to make a living writing these stories. They sometimes pay the ultimate price so we can debate, argue, go have coffee with friends, raise our children and see them have children of their own.
One of my favorite tributes to warriors resides on many memorials, including one I saw honoring the fallen of WWII on an island in the Pacific:
“When you go home
Tell them of us, and say
For your tomorrow,
We gave our today.”
These are my stories created out of my own imagination. Anything that is inaccurately portrayed is either my mistake, or done intentionally to disguise something I might have overheard over a beer or in the corner of one of the hangouts along the Coronado Strand.
I support two main charities: Navy SEAL/UDT Museum in Ft. Pierce, Florida. Please learn about this wonderful museum, all run by active and former SEALs and their friends and families, and who rely on public support, not that of the U.S. Government.
www.navysealmuseum.org
I also support Wounded Warriors, who tirelessly bring together the warrior as well as the family members who are just learning to deal with their soldier’s condition and have nowhere to turn. It is a long path to becoming well, but I’ve seen first-hand what this organization does for its warriors and the families who love them. Please give what your heart tells you is right. If you cannot give, volunteer at one of the many service centers all over the United States. Get involved. Do something meaningful for someone who gave so much of themselves, to families who have paid the price for your freedom. You’ll find a family there unlike any other on the planet.
www.woundedwarriorproject.org
CHAPTER 1
N avy SEAL Trace Bennett sat down on one of the benches at Gunny’s Gym and picked up a thirty pound barbell and started his reps, focusing on a straight back and neck, or he’d pay for it later tonight. He’d been told it was mandatory to do daily PT when they were between deployments. Unless he wanted to do a cool ten-mile run or a swim in the inlet, it was Gunny’s, and it was a great place to get to know some of the other guys. Since the Team had just come back from a short mission to Baja California, they weren’t likely to be sent out again for several months, unless something flared up. And that was happening a lot lately.
Being the newest member of Kyle Lansdowne’s squad on SEAL Team 3, his transfer from Team 8 had been hastened by a messy divorce and a bad write-up on his interim evaluation. He’d told his LPO that he just needed a change of scenery.
“Lansdowne runs a tight ship. They watch for cracks. You wanna stay in as a SEAL, you better not have one,” said Sr. Chief Masterson.
That had brought a smile to his lips.
“Fuckin’ pervert! I didn’t mean your butt crack. I mean your head’s gotta be right, but I’m with most my peers in this. If you can’t fuck you can’t fight. So I guess I should feel grateful at least you have a sense of humor and a dirty mind. That’s a good sign.”
“Yessir.” He stifled his snicker and gave him a sigh instead. “I just need a break with all the memories here.”
That had been part of the reason. The fact that Shayla took up with another Team Guy on Team 4 didn’t help things at all. It was a hell of a thing to come back from deployment and find someone else in your brand new king-sized bed that hit your credit card while you were sleeping in a sandy cave overseas.
So here he was, pumping iron and trying to fit in. Except that the guys on Kyle’s team looked like they were right out of high school. At thirty-four years of age, they’d already started calling him “Grandpa.”
Well, he was here to show them he could probably bench press more than anyone, and had taken probably a thousand more halo jumps in his career. He was going to make it to fifteen years, which would happen in two years, and then he’d see if he had the stones to stay in a full twenty, although sitting behind a desk never really appealed to him. Older guys who became too senior didn’t do the active deployments. Right about ten years, most of them started moving on to something else, if they didn’t do it at six years, which is where most of them left at.
But one thing Trace was, if he was anything, was stubborn. He’d leave on his own terms, as long as his body didn’t
give out on him. Every jump had his LPOs holding their breath, even though he felt fine. They’d give a younger guy time to heal if something happened. Not a thirteen-year man.
The tall medic, Calvin Cooper, came in with a short ugly dude they called Fredo. They were about as opposite as friends could be, but word had it that they were tighter than the ass on a chipmunk. Fredo kind of looked like a small furry creature himself, with his unibrow and the wide, flat nose like an Ewok. These guys were seniors, he was told. He should show them the respect they deserved. They had a few years less service, but they were well thought of, and if they liked you, you were in with the rest of the squad.
“Hey, gramps. You take your Metamucil this morning?” the shorter one asked him.
“No time. I was doing the tat artist and she took her time with me, too.” He wiggled his eyebrows at Coop. He’d received intel Coop had been sweet on the little lady with tits the size of balloons. He’d let her do the frog prints up his right arm, like all the rest of the guys on Kyle’s team.
Coop didn’t react, but Trace could almost hear the cracking of granite inside the tall SEAL’s chest. So Trace had to rub it in and displayed his arm, still with the plastic wrap attached, showing off his new reddened frog print tattoo.
Fredo swore in Spanish. “He’s a clown this one. Coop, we’re gonna have to watch out for him.” Coop still said nothing. Fredo continued, “Besides which, you’re a fuckin’ liar. She wouldn’t want anything to do with the likes of you. She’s got herself a homicide detective who brings his own cuffs, right Coop?”
“That’s right. I still got the scars,” Coop said, fingering his wrist.
Trace stood up so they could see he was nearly as tall as Coop, who was the tallest man on the squad. “You’re right fellas, she only gave me a blowjob.”
Coop smirked and still didn’t rise to the bait. Fredo did it for him.
“You gotta dirty mouth, Bennett. You better hope you pack your own chute from now on.”
Trace worked alone and vowed to find a training buddy, or they’d assign him to someone who would be annoying.
“I’ll spot you if you trust me,” Coop said in his soft Midwest drawl.
Trace thought about it for a minute and nodded, rolled on his back and under the bar he’d set at one hundred pounds. He gripped the bar and extended.
“Hold it right there for ten seconds,” yelled Coop.
Trace was fine until the slow count of twelve, but he wouldn’t give up. Coop got to thirteen and then counted ten, and Trace lowered the bar. Coop took it from him and set it gently on the bar catcher.
“That was a nice one, Trace. You’re one strong motherfucker,” said Coop.
“Guess you won’t be calling me grandpa again, then?” Trace said as he lifted the bar a second time, holding it straight-armed to a genuine count of ten, and brought it back down, where Coop rested it.
“That’s a function of age, not strength. But hell, if you got it, you’ll earn your spot here fair and square,” added Fredo.
Amornpan, the gym owner, wafted back into the room. “Hello fellas. You got a new guy with you?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Trace said as he sat up. “I’m Trace Bennett. On Kyle’s squad.”
“Oh you don’t have to tell me that.” She slapped her forearm to show she’d noticed his tat. She put her glasses on and started working on the computer. “I’ll have some paperwork for you when you’re done, Mr. Bennett,” she said without looking at him.
They went though several routines, and the three of them worked in together nicely. Afterward, Fredo poured cold water on a towel and wore it like a hoodie. Coop’s face was bright red. Trace had worked a bit longer and harder than he’d intended, but he wanted to impress the stalwarts of the team.
“So we got a vacation coming up. You up for a little sun and fun?” Coop asked him.
“Not sure what you mean. I just got here. Nothing wrong with San Diego’s sun and fun.”
“Nah, man. I mean Hawaii.” Coop had his towel around his neck, sweat rolling down in rivulets all over his face and chest. “Bunch of us are going in on a big house on Kauai with like eight bedrooms. Got it for the week. We’re bringing wives and girlfriends, so you’re welcome to if you want. We’re asking everyone for a five hundred, and that will include everything but the bar tab and eating out, and the air fare of course.”
“Sounds good.”
“Put you down for one or two?” asked Fredo.
“Just one. I’m solo right now.”
“Okay, you’ll probably get the couch, then.” Coop continued, “Fair warning, there are a few babies coming, but no kids. Some have babies they can’t be separated from yet. You get the idea.”
“Yeah. Breast feeding.”
Fredo burst out laughing. “You’re all right, Trace! He comes already packaged for the program.”
“You gotta understand, this isn’t my first picnic, and I’ve been on Team vacations before. I know the drill.” Trace didn’t want to dwell too much on some of the trips he and Shayla had taken in the past. There was a lot of naughtiness, some that got couples in trouble, and of course a whole lot of drinking. This time he was single, and was kind of looking forward to it.
CHAPTER 2
G retchen had all three girls in the kitchen for a quick bowl of soup before their pickup. Clover was displaying a long face and lack of enthusiasm for anything, wearing her backpack slipping off one shoulder. She finally dumped it on the ground and climbed the stool to have her soup.
“So Mom, you going to get a bikini? Asked Rebecca. She started to pick the chicken in the chicken noodle soup from her braces.
“What makes you think I don’t already have one?” Gretchen answered with a quick smile. “Or, maybe I’ll go to the nude beach. What do you think about that?”
“Dumb,” moaned Clover. Nobody looks good with all their clothes off. Who wants to see all the veins and flabby butts and boobs that hang to their waist?” She blew on her soup and slurped without looking up.
Rebecca and Angie giggled. “Oh. My. God. She said flabby butts,” repeated Angie and the two younger daughters snickered again.
“Well, these aren’t your grandparents you know,” Gretchen was going to continue, but Rebecca cut right across her.
“Gramma’s boobies are flat as pancakes and she has to scoop them up like biscuit dough to put them in her bra and nearly falls over doing it.”
The girls laughed again.
“Shut up you guys. That’s not nice. Gramma can’t help it. That’s why I’m not ever going to have any children. I want to be skinny and tall and have nothing that gives me a black eye when I run, like boobs.” Clover droned on. Her little sisters thought she was hilarious.
“Okay, now let me explain a couple of things first.” Gretchen was entertained, but knew she had to give them a primer or the week-long stay with their dad and his new fiancé would turn out to be a disaster, and perhaps ruin her trip. She didn’t want to get midnight calls from the girls in tears, and knew it was a distinct possibility.
“Give them their space,” said Rebecca.
“Tell Joanie her cooking is fabulous,” said Angela.
“Try not to listen when they start screwing and you hear dad grunting like a pig,” said Clover.
Gretchen had to smile at that one. She couldn’t help but add her dose of humor. “Are you sure that’s your dad you’re hearing?”
“Oh Mom! I’m gonna tell!” teased Rebecca.
“You’ll do nothing of the kind,” quipped Gretchen. Listening to the girls banter and tease each other, she was proud of the way they’d turned out. They had a healthy respect for relationships, and took the breakup of their father and mother in style, all of them knowing full well their father had been on TV and they’d even seen the video posted by one of those celebrity shows, their father doing Jell-O shots without his shirt on, lapping them up between the dancer’s enormous boobs. Gretchen explained that men went crazy for boobs, that they could b
e led around by the nose with the chance to just look at a woman’s enormous boobs, and that their father was no different.
The fact that he played for the Portland Trailblazers was just something he did. Unlike the effect he had on everyone else around him, to the girls, he was just dad who had a weakness for bad behavior and pretty blonde girls much younger than he. He was special only because he was their father and not due to anything he did on the court or in the bedroom.
Gretchen hadn’t accepted a penny of Tony Sanders’ money. She allowed him to set up college funds for the girls, but she wanted him to feel as useless to their upbringing as she did the night she watched the video of him in her living room. And that’s when she decided never to keep anything from the girls. They had a right to know.
The doorbell rang.
“Okay, it’s show time!” Gretchen spouted. Now is the time to go for a quick pee if you need to.”
“Mom, they have bathrooms at the arena,” said Clover. She opened the front door before Gretchen could answer.
Joanie was one of those girls who could have made toothpaste commercial. Her dazzling white perfectly straight teeth matched the whites of her enormous blue eyes. She had flawless tanned skin with an eternal rosy glow to her cheeks. Angela had asked Gretchen once why her cheeks sparkled and she had to explain it was in the blush Joanie wore. Her lips were extra full and plump and the rosy color matched her blush.
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